One Last Kiss
by Draco'sGranger
Summary: The Wizarding World is turning upsidedown as the unexpected becomes the expected. First Draco is captured. Then while on a mission Hermione finds him. Harry is having strange dreams once again. And everyone is left in the dust as fate takes charge.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! This is my first story and I am so excited to share it with all of you! I am a huge Harry Potter fan, or you could call me a potterhead, whichever, and my only task here is to keep the Harry Potter flame alive. Now that the books and movies are over, sob, us fanfictioners is all Harry Potter has left! I had a lot of fun reading some of your stories, which were all amazing, and I thought that I should try writing one of my own. Well now I have! I hope to update every two weeks with a new chapter, but that depends on how busy my schedule is. Well enough with my rambling, here is the first chapter to my first fanfiction! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 1**

The man was chained to the old, wooden chair in the center of the cold, empty, square room; bound so tightly he couldn't flex a muscle. Every time he tried to struggle against the chains binding him in place, they tightened their hold on him magically so that he couldn't even breathe; forming deep cuts and bruises in his arms, legs, and chest. Even in the faint light the bruises, blood, and scars were still visible all over his body as though he had been tortured for days on end. He was obviously famished and parched, as his ribs were visibly protruding beneath from his skin, and his throat looked dry. After what seemed like hours of struggling to loosen the chains keeping him captive, the man gave up and hung his head low, his white blonde hair glinting in the dim light of the cold, desolate room.

Faint footsteps echoed, as the person making them drew nearer. The man in the chair tensed his head raised toward the doorway instinctively. His grey eyes shone with fear, which he immediately hid behind his stoic expression. He stared earnestly at the doorway, which was the only opening in the room. A woman appeared; her traveling cloak looked worn, and her eyes tired. She held up her wand, which was lit up at the tip illuminating her body and face slightly in the darkness. By the light, you could see the woman's flawless, curly brown hair that fell to her mid-chest, and her face, which was covered in dirt and blood. The moment her glistening brown eyes found the man's grey ones, both pairs widened in shock and bewilderment and latter's in relief as well. He was safe; at least for now.

The woman stared at the man's bare chest, and saw a long scar from his shoulder to his hip. His pants were also completely soaked in blood, which she had no doubt was his own. Slowly the woman began to back out of the room holding her wand up, this way and that to see more of the empty room, thinking that something had to be in there other than the man in front of her. However, to her dismay, the cold, stone walls were completely blank and empty. There was nothing there but her, the man on the chair bound by chains, and the four bare stone walls looming threateningly around her. The only opening in the small room was the door through which she had just walked through.

"Granger?" the man spoke, his croak barely audible. It took every ounce of his strength to speak and admit his next words he had to. She had finally reached the doorway and was about to turn to leave, when his strained voice echoed through the barren room. "Wait!" he called raising his right hand toward her, after a failed attempt to lift his other arm without inflicting pain upon himself. His voice was becoming stronger as he seemed to regain his voice after weeks of not speaking. "I need your help! I know we aren't really friends but I…."

"Exactly, we aren't friends. You didn't need me until now, and you don't need me now either." The woman spoke back, keeping her face as unemotional as possible. She desperately avoided his pleading eyes by keeping hers focused on wherever her wand led her; trying to find anything she could in the room, not believing it was truly empty. Not believing this man was truly being tortured or imprisoned. Thinking it was all a trap; a trick intended to capture her, or hurt her, in some way. She didn't know what it was, but she did know one thing; she wasn't going to fall for the trick.

The man stared back at Hermione speechless. "I-I-I don't understand. You're supposed to be kind and brave like a Gryffindor. Why –"

"I am kind and brave like a Gryffindor, but not to people like you. Not to Slytherins who used to be Death Eaters a little more than three years ago. You tried to kill Harry, Ron, and I multiple times throughout the years and now you want me to save you? Never." She spat back, her anger rising within her as turned to trudge out of the room, leaving the man behind to his lonesome.

"Hermione, please!" He begged startling even himself by using her first name. "I need you, you're my only hope… Please!" His voice became increasingly louder with each word, as though making her not able to avoid him no matter how far away she became from him.

Hermione who had turned with her mouth agape in shock, at hearing her first name from one of her enemies, immediately turned back around toward the door. And with a voice so quiet the man could barely hear her she said, "I stand by my word. I can't help you. I'm sorry." And with that she walked brusquely out the door to the busy street outside not an ounce of regret anywhere within her. Her task was complete, all she had been told to do was go in the building, look around, and get out. Her job as a Magical Law Enforcement Agent was not to stop the crimes, only to discover them and send the Aurors, like Harry, after them. She had done her job; she had investigated. Nowhere in that list was it said that she had to rescue her enemies.

When Hermione arrived outside she looked around warily. Rain was falling quietly all around her in little droplets, illuminating all her surroundings in a shiny glow as they made contact with the asphalt. Little explosions of water droplets bounced all around her, and before she knew it, she was soaked to the bone. She quickly pulled out her black, muggle umbrella so as to blend in with all the passersby around her, bustling to where they needed to be. All of them were in rain jackets, crouched down low, holding an umbrella over their heads. Most of them were businessmen carrying briefcases that held documents that couldn't get wet. All of them were obviously rushing from one place to another, late, as usual.

The busy street scurried all around her, making her feel slow and out of place among the cacophonous stampede of people and cars. The traffic was terrible and the upset drivers were honking violently at one another, even when there was no reason to. All the buildings in the surrounding area were either cozy, little restaurants with apartments above them or skyscrapers with windows from top to the bottom. The latter being the more likely. They were obviously office buildings for the muggles living nearby, or in apartments on the upper floor of some of the businesses. While she looked around to make sure she was not being followed, or for any sign of danger, numerous people ambled right into her, not even pausing to apologize or see if she was okay. Then again, she was not in London anymore. She was in a completely different world; New York. But not only was she in New York, she was in the muggle section of New York, on the farthest side away from the wizarding territory as possible. She seemed so out of place. She couldn't imagine how the pureblood, she couldn't even think his name, felt about not only being here, but also being tortured here.

A single tear wove its way down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, not understanding what had overcome her. That man did not deserve her mourning; he had made her years at Hogwarts miserable. He'd called her a 'mudblood' practically daily, and constantly made fun of her for her looks, her studies, and her friends. He had joined the Death Eaters and Voldemort, and tried to kill or capture Harry, Ron, and her constantly throughout the war, and even in the years before he had joined the Dark ranks. He was an evil man, and he did not deserve being saved. He deserved every moment of his capture and torture. He even deserved death as far as she was concerned.

Yet there was a nagging feeling inside her that something was off. He was bound to the chair so tightly he couldn't even move an inch. He had been full of cuts, blood, bruises, and even multiple scars ran their way down his body. And his left arm, which held his Dark Mark, seemed hurt and frail. He wasn't able to move it at all without wincing and causing himself pain. He seemed so fragile and broken, and most importantly he seemed in need of help. He needed anyone's help. Anyone he could get. He was probably relieved to have seen Hermione; delighted even, that he might finally have a change in luck. The boy she knew from school was rude and full of himself. He thought he could do everything better and faster than anyone else, just because of his blood status. He was so sure of himself and thought that no one would ever, or could ever for that matter, be better than him, or accomplish more than him. He would never have asked her for help, he had too much pride. Something had changed inside him, or he was desperate for help; so desperate he would even ask her to assist him.

Also who was holding him captive? Voldemort was gone and all of the known Death Eaters, who weren't dead, were in Azkaban because he, the man now being captured, had betrayed them and given away their locations. Who was left that would inflict such pain upon people? And why?

Hermione's head went back to the pained look on the man's face as he asked for her help. His one last pleading cry echoed inside her head. His sparkling grey eyes shining with hope and relief seeing her walk through the doorway. _'Hermione please! I need you, you're my only hope… Please!' _The man she had known from school would never have been able to swallow his pride and ask her for help. So he had to have really been suffering and needing someone's, anyone's, help to plead the way he had to her or he had changed entirely. Either way, she had to figure out what was going on. Hermione froze in her tracks and looked back at the way she had come, a calculating look on her face, trying to figure out what to do. Slowly she began to walk back toward the man she had hated practically her whole life. The moment she stepped through the barrier of the building where the pureblood was being held captive, the sun came out from behind the clouds and a small silver lining was visible. She knew she had made the right decision.

"NO! Hermione! NO!" Harry awoke screaming. He was drenched in cold sweat and his breath was ragged. He hadn't had a dream like this in nearly two and a half years since he had killed Voldemort, and he was terrified as to what this meant. He had had nightmares about Voldemort since he had defeated him, but they had never been this vivid. They always depicted terrifying moments from the war, and summoned his deepest fears of the moments. They usually depicted the look on Voldemort's face when he 'murdered' Harry with the killing curse for the second time in his life. That face was one of the worst mental pictures he had ever had that would never leave his mind. He had woken up shaken from those dreams, but never like he was now. In addition, those dreams had stopped mere months after the war, when things had calmed down, and Harry realized it was time to move on from the war, and begin the reconstruction after the war; and Harry, being the hero, had to lead them and show them the way. He let go of the nightmares, and stepped into his place. And ever since they had vanished; gone off to haunt another poor soul. Until now.

His whole body was rigid and shook as he reached toward the bedside table to retrieve his glasses. His hand scraped against something hard and his finger was cut open. Blood poured out of the deep cut he pulled his wand out of his pajama pocket and said "Accio." His glasses soared through the air and met his good hand. He quickly put on his glasses and stared at his bedside table to see what had cut his finger so deeply. His eyes met with the fragment of the mirror he had received from Sirius in his fifth year at Hogwarts. The mirror with which Sirius and James had communicated with so often with when they were in separate detentions. The mirror that Aberforth had used to save him not only once, but twice, with throughout the war. The mirror that was all he had left from the godfather he loved and missed sourly and thought about on a regular basis. All the little things, reminded him of the man. There was no getting away from it.

_Sirius_, he thought painfully. He missed his godfather more than anyone else who had died. He missed him more than Tonks, Lupin, Fred, or any of his other acquaintances, who had perished either in the war or by the hands of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He was the parent Harry had never had; the parent Harry had dreamed of having his whole life. Sirius was the one who had loved him unconditionally; the one who Harry could share everything with, even his deepest fears and darkest secrets. The one who had lived off of rats in a cave in Hogsmeade in order to be able to see Harry and keep an eye on him during his fourth year, while he was in grave danger in the Triwizard Tournament. He would have been the first one Harry would have told about this dream, were he still here, and he was sure that Sirius would have known exactly what to do about it. He always did. He was the one who had been the family that Harry never had. Harry Potter may have been the chosen one, but Sirius was Harry's chosen one; his chosen favorite person in the world.

_I knew I should have kept the Resurrection Stone._ Harry thought to himself. Then he shook the thought out of his head, remembering what had happened to the second brother and his bride-to-be in the tale of the three brothers. He also remembered the proud look on Dumbledore's face in the portrait above the headmaster's desk at Hogwarts, when he had told him how he didn't wish to keep any of the Hallows other than that which was already his.

_Dumbledore_, he thought grimacing over the thought. He vaguely saw in the back of his mind, the broken body of the headmaster falling off of the Astronomy Tower on that night in his sixth year. The man always had wise advice and was always willing to help Harry no matter what it was Harry needed. He wished he could see his portrait and tell him about the dream. Since Sirius was gone, he would be one of the only ones who would know what was happening to him. He should probably just go and ask Professor McGonagall if he could have a private word with his portrait. His thoughts ambiguously wandered to wondering how Professor McGonagall was coping in the remaking of Hogwarts, as the new headmaster after Professor Snape had died tragically in the war.

_Snape_, Harry almost began to cry at the thought of the man. The man he had utterly hated his whole life, turned out to be the man who had tried to raise him like a son. To make sure he was well and alive throughout his years at Hogwarts. The man who had loved his mother so deeply, he had risked his life twenty-four-seven, against the darkest wizard in the world to make sure Harry, the son of the man he hated most in the world, would stay alive. All because he had his mother's, the woman he loved, eyes. Harry immediately shook his head to clear it of all thoughts. This clearly was turning out to be a bad day. He had only been awake mere minutes and he was already almost in tears about three deceased men that meant the world to him. He had to focus on his dream. He had to focus on Hermione. His thoughts continued to travel this way and that, seeing parts of the dream and lingering on the look on Hermione's face when she decided to go back and help her enemy.

She, unlike the three men he missed sourly, was alive and in need of help. What was Dumbledore's advice on that matter? "Don't pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and above all, those who live without love." He needed to heed his advice, and not pity the dead, but his friend in danger. His friend who might be dead by now for all he knew. He had to save her, even if it meant just rescuing her body from that horrid place.

A storming stampede of steps woke Harry from his reverie and he shook his head in order to regain his composure and remember his dream. "Harry!" three voices screamed simultaneously as three of his friends raced into the room, wand in the air in case of danger.

"Harry," Ginny repeated. "What's wrong? We heard you screaming all the way downstairs. Are you okay?" Her eyes shone with fear, and she immediately sighed with relief when she saw that he was neither under attack nor severely injured.

Harry looked up at the eager faces of his friends, which he practically considered his family. They had all gone to school together, though some in different years, and Harry had become very close to all of them. He had lived with their family for most of the summer each summer, so as to escape his terrible muggle family, the Dursleys. He knew them all so well that he could tell when anything was bothering them, or when they were in need of either space or help. They could read him in exactly the same way. They all continued to look down at him, worry filled eyes, waiting for him to talk, knowing it was hard for him, whatever it was he had to say.

Harry looked at Ron to see what he thought of the situation, and what advice he might have in his eyes. When his eyes fell upon Ron, he saw he looked his usual self, in his long black cloak and his red hair neatly combed down as he always did for work. Being the Minister of Magic's assistant and a worthy part of the Golden Trio, he had to look tiptop everyday. He stood tall and proud as he always did these days, mostly for the press for they followed him everywhere he went, but also so that he would not have to show how he felt about letting Hermione out alone on a mission without any help. Even though he knew it was her job as a Magical Law Enforcement Officer to go on these missions. He had argued with her for hours before she hit the mark by saying, "We are over Ron! You need to stop worrying over me like a new mother! I'm not yours anymore so get over it!" Ron had been hurt for days afterward, and Harry was afraid as to how he would take the news. Would he be worried? Or would he not care after how she treated him? When his eyes found Ron's once again, he saw his eyes showed fear, but they also showed welcoming, he was ready to listen to his best friend no matter what he had to say.

Harry's eyes traveled onward to Ginny, Ron's sister and Harry's girlfriend. She stood directly beside him; her eyes showing fear and concern for the man she had loved since they were children. She was still in her Harpies pajamas, as she had awoken only just shortly before she had heard Harry screaming, but still looked as beautiful as ever. Her faultless red hair hung just below her waist, framing her unblemished face. Her soft, mocha-colored eyes continued to gleam at him with a mixture of fear and love, staring right into Harry's.

Harry gently tore his eyes away from Ginny's and looked at George, the remaining Weasley twin. His shirt was worn and his pants were far too short but he seemed as though he didn't even notice, or if he did, he didn't care the slightest. His unruly red hair was messy and long enough to cover his missing ear so that no one would notice its absence. Even though he was proud of his battle scar, whenever he saw it he remembered Fred at his side laughing about him being 'holy.' Consequentially, George's eyes were red from crying; no doubt about his deceased twin, Fred. Even after almost three years he had never gotten over his twin's death. Even through his sadness, Harry could see the fear in his eyes.

The three had concluded that since Harry wasn't hurt or attacked he had had another dream. Harry saw the realization in their eyes, one by one as they studied him; first in Ron, who knew him best, then in Ginny, and finally in George. Harry looked down to study himself wondering how it was so obvious. The white sheets on his bed were holding on, only by one flimsy corner of the mattress, the rest being torn off no doubt from his restless sleep. His blanket was sitting over his legs in a messy bundle, and his pillow was completely on the floor next to the bed. Harry himself looked even worse than he had thought possible after having a dream. His grey nightshirt was completely drenched in cold sweat, and his hair was even messier than usual. He looked in the mirror on the far side of the room, and saw the wild look in his eyes mixed in with fear. He quickly composed himself, and looked back at his friends.

He saw more realizations cross their eyes as they continued to think on the situation until Harry had the strength to speak. They knew it wasn't just a nightmare, because he didn't scream or wake in cold sweat when he had those, and he hadn't had a dream where he had in years. After his fifth year he had learned to control it slightly but it still came throughout his sixth and seventh years whether while he was awake or asleep. However since he had defeated Voldemort, there had been no prickling in his scar nor any bad dreams. He had finally felt like a regular person, or as regular as a wizard can be. Until now that he had this dream.

Ginny and Ron seemed to reach the conclusion that something was definitely wrong first and both stared straight into his eyes to find any more clues they could. Harry felt terrible for leaving them in the dark while he held so much valuable information, especially when it was about their dear friend, Hermione. But his mouth seemed to be frozen, his jaw glued in place.

He tore his eyes away from Ginny's once again, unable to find the words to speak about his dream. Parts of it still confused him and he didn't want to give them any misleading information. He looked around the room in order to avoid their questioning, worried gazes.

The room he was sharing with Ron in the Burrow was messy as usual. They had too much stuff on their mind with work, relationships, and helping out with the recovery after the war, to worry about the state of their room. They had had lead roles in the war and people looked to them for support. Though the room was messy, one could still make out the furniture inside it. There were two beds; one on each side of the room, and next to each of them was a small bedside table where they store their personal possessions. In the middle of the room there was a rug on the bare floor and lots of their belongings strewn across it. Their walls were plastered with papers ranging from posters of their favorite quiditch teams, to pictures of them with their friends. There was even a giant poster over the head of Harry's bed with a large picture of Harry and the words "The Chosen One Saves the World!" plastered across his chest. Ron had put it up there as a joke with a Permanent Sticking Charm, as Sirius had done in his room in Grimauld Place, so Harry had no way to remove it. There was also the mirror in which Harry had recently looked in the middle of the room. Both boys had said they had no need for a mirror, but Molly had insisted that it was necessary. They had press after them constantly, and they had to look their best for the paper. Even though the boys wouldn't admit it to Molly, they used the mirror constantly on their way out of the house.

"Harry," Ginny said gently, waking him from his reverie once again, trying to catch his gaze. "You can tell us, you know. We want to help you." As she finished speaking, she tenderly reached out for his hand. It was then that she noticed the blood and deep cut on his finger running down his arm and onto his bed sheets. "Harry your bleeding!" Ginny yelped exasperated. "You should have told us! How did this happen?" She immediately pulled out her wand, sat on the edge of his bed, and began healing his cut.

"I cut my finger on Sirius's mirror when I was reaching for my glasses." Harry mumbled quietly. "Thanks." He added to Ginny with a small smile.

She nodded in return and kept hold of his hand still staring deep in his eyes.

"Hmm-mm" Ron cleared his throat loudly. "I told you I didn't mind you dating Ginny, but that doesn't mean I want to see it." Ron said.

"Like I would listen to what you told me. If I like a guy, I won't come to you asking if I have your permission to date them." Ginny added hotly starting to rise to her feet.

"Well he is my best friend, I mean don't you girls have some girl code rule about that. He is –" Ron started also clenching his fists and taking challenging steps toward her.

"Stop it you two." George said, not even looking at them, a pained look on his face. Usually at a time like this he or Fred would have cracked a joke to lighten the tension in the room, but since Fred had died George seemed to be in a world of his own, where jokes reminded him too much of his brother, and seriousness was the only way to go. Many people were surprised that he still ran Weasley's Wizard Wheezes without his brother, but he said that not to do so would tarnish his brother's memory. He seemed to name almost all of the newest merchandise he created after Fred.

George sighed heavily and shook his head obviously struggling internally with memories of his brother. "Why were you screaming, Harry? We heard you all the way downstairs and thought something had happened. Now that I see that you weren't attacked I'm guessing you had another dream. But you haven't had those in years so I don't know what to think. I mean he is dead right? I mean, this time he's dead for-for good? Your scar isn't hurting is it?" George rambled on terrified of what Harry might answer if he stopped. The other three in the room looked at George sadly. They all missed Fred too, but it was nothing like what George felt. They all knew that he was wondering whether Fred had died in vain, whether Voldemort wasn't really gone.

Harry couldn't withhold what he had seen in his dream any longer after seeing the look on George's face when he finished his rambling. He took a deep breath and spoke one word, "Hermione."

"Moine?" Ron said in shock, fear rising in his eyes. "What do you mean Mione? What's wrong with her?" Obviously even after she had told him to sod off and that she didn't want anything to do with him, he still cared about her. At least Harry wouldn't have to convince him to help him save her. He seemed like he would be the first one to jump up and rescue her no matter the cost. In other words, he still loved her, like he did before. Even though he did cheat on her with Lavender and broke her heart in the process. Ron stared at Harry eagerly awaiting any information that could help him save her.

Ginny's mouth was also open in shock, and she opened and closed it trying to find the ability to speak what was on her mind. She eventually settled on looking worriedly at Harry hoping he would see the question behind her gaze.

George didn't look any better. His eyes were filled with fear once again and he said one simple word, "Where?"

"I don't know."Harry answered, angry with himself for not knowing.

"What is she doing? What happened?" Ron asked.

Harry looked back at Ginny and saw she was still struggling to even speak. Then he looked down at his hand, the one not holding Ginny's, and spoke, "I don't know that either."

"Here we go again. It's just like the bloody diadem of Ravenclaw all over again. We don't know where or what or anything." Ron ranted angrily. Silence followed and Ron seemed to fume more the longer he had to wait.

"I realize it isn't much to go on." Harry began. "But –"

"That is nothing to go on!" Ron snapped back. "Damn it! Now I know how Seamus felt in the Room of Requirement. I feel useless and –"

"Ron!" Ginny chastised accusingly. "He is doing the best he can! You're not helping him with your temper so calm down! Can't you see this is hard on him? Or is your big head blocking even Harry from you?" Ron looked as though he wanted to answer but Ginny beat him to the punch by adding, "It's no wonder Hermione wanted nothing to do with you. You're a disgusting piece of rubbish if I ever saw one. You're a self-centered, arrogant prat." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry flinch at the word that had so often been used to describe his father. She shot him an apologetic glance and continued to chastise Ron. "And you have the most unbearable temper. For heaven's sake, you're even yelling at your best friend, when he's trying to give you information on how to save her. So shut your bloody mouth and listen. Damn it, Ron! Really is it so fucking hard?" She gavehim one of her famous death glares and didn't let her gaze waver from his pained face.

Harry knew that if Molly had heard Ginny's little speech she would have grounded the girl for life, and Harry was suddenly glad the plump witch wasn't in the room. He put a mental note to talk to her about her word choice later, so that she wouldn't slip when Molly was around. The wounded look on Ron's face killed him, but at least she had gotten him to shut up. When Ron finally got the courage to speak after Ginny's obvious intention to insult him, he barely had time to open his mouth before another look from Ginny silenced him. She regained her composure, and turned to Harry. Softly she said, "Go on, Harry."

Harry quietly spoke again, "I think she mentioned muggle New York, but I don't know where in New York. I remember the place and buildings exactly, but I didn't see any building numbers or street names." Harry kicked himself mentally; he had been so worried about Hermione that he hadn't bothered to look at her surroundings much. She was in danger, he knew that much, and when he got the material to save her, he didn't even look at it.

"Well that's a start," said Ginny consolingly. She knew exactly what was going on in Harry's head.

"Yeah," George added, understanding Harry needed to be comforted. "We can ask around in her department to see where she was sent in New York, and go from there until Harry sees a place he recognizes."

The three seemed to nod in agreement, but Ron still looked outraged. "That will take way too long. We need something faster and better. Any ideas?" Silence followed once again as they all stared down at their hands, not knowing what to say. None of them wanting enrage the temperamental red-head anymore than he already was. It turned out that staying silent wasn't a much better option though. Ron was staring them all down, daring them to say something, anything, to help him with his dilemma. Anything that could help him solve his predicament; and when they didn't speak, he was just more enraged thinking that they weren't even trying.

Out of the blue Ron looked up at the other three and bellowed, "Well then how the bloody hell are we supposed to find her?"

**I really want some feedback on how you think it is! I am so excited to see what you have to say. If you really think it sucks, please tell me, but also tell me why. If you liked it, which I really hope you did, tell me why and just flatter me please. Every girl loves flattery! jk... well not really. Thank you so much for taking your time to read this! I hope you stay tuned for my next chapter! **

If any of you want a hint at an event that will happen later in the story (much much much later), then listen to the song Nothing by the Script. It's my new favorite song, and it has to do perfectly with one of the chapters I have planned for this story! It is an amazing song, but it's also really sad.

**P.S.** If you have a pottermore account please friend me please. My account is HollyEye56! thnx soooo much!


	2. Chapter 2

**HI People!**

Welcome to Chapter 2 of my first Fanfic! I can't wait until I get to the parts with the Dramione stuff, but I dont wanna rush the story, so I'm gonna take it slow! Also if you haven't noticed by the time you finish this chapter, I love cliffhangers, so sorry if some of them are pretty bad. So far they actually aren't that bad, but i have some really good ones planned.

This chapter is a bit boring because I have to do some stuff to make sure you understand the background of the story! The next chapter will be much more interesting I assure you! Though I have some advice... watch what George does, that is important for later on!

I also wanted to thank my wonderful Beta: cutiepiehp! She hasnt betaed yet, but she will start nexy chapter! Thanks again bffl!

Disclaimer: I forgot to do this last chapter but, I am not JK Rowling and none of these characters nor any other familiar aspects to the story belong to me. If they did, I would be richer than the queen and potterheads would love me to no end. Sadly that is not the case, though I love JKR in everyway possible

Enjoy!

- hplvr4ever

**Chapter 2**

While his mates had gone to ready themselves for what they knew would be a long day of discussing plans to save Mione, Harry sat on the edge of his bed, with his head in his hands. His mind was reviewing every detail he could remember of the dream, and playing it over a hundred times in his head. He wouldn't let himself forget even one measly word, in case that happened to be the word that would save her in the end. Every detail mattered, when her fate rested in his hands. He even strained his mind top its limits to try and see the street names or building numbers around her, but all her managed to see was a blur of gibberish lettering and numbering with clear surroundings, and evident calculation on Mione's face.

He knew that everyone would convince him otherwise, but he couldn't help feeling this was his fault. Hermione had offered to take up the mission, and the moment Harry had found out, he raced over to her and warned her of the danger she was up against. There were still a few wizards out there who favored Voldemort, even if they didn't share it with the world. She had told him to stop worrying like a lamb surrounded by a pack of wolves, and that his job as an Auror was much more dangerous than hers. He had obliged when he saw there was no altering her decision by even a centimeter. How wrong he had been. He could have done much, much more to convince her otherwise. But he couldn't bring himself to change her mind, because he knew how she felt. He had felt it many times before, and he knew that whenever you got that feeling, you just had to fulfill it. She felt as though she had to prove herself as more than what people thought she was. She had to prove that she truly was the best witch of her age. She had to prove that she was beyond fear, and not afraid to do what was right.

As he sat there now, knowing she was in danger; he couldn't help but feel that if he had continued to quarrel with her, that he would have gotten his way in the end. That she would have never gone on the mission. That she would be safe, here at the Burrow with the rest of them. Even though he would never admit this to her, he cared about her more than anyone else; except of course Ginny. She was like a sister to Harry. She had cared about him. Told him when she was scared for him, when she was proud of him, and even when he was being a bigheaded git; which was often. She had always told him when he was wrong, when he was right, and when he was so lost that he himself didn't even know how lost he was. She had always been there for him, since their first year of Hogwarts. And he hadn't been there to return the favor when she really needed it.

Harry was so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't even realized Ginny enter the room, until she sat on the bed beside him, and put a consoling arm on his shoulder. She smelled like a newly blossomed rose, and just that thought calmed Harry slightly. "Harry?" she asked quietly, not wanting to startle him. He pulled his face away from his hands and looked sideways, over his shoulder, at her. Her eyes were gazing at him lovingly and tenderly, but they were also bursting with concern. She knew exactly what he was thinking. She always did. At times Harry swore that she had to be a master at Occlumency. But she wasn't; she just knew her boyfriend so well.

When she knew she had his full attention, she cleared her throat softly, as it was becoming filled with emotion, and spoke. "Harry," she paused trying to think of the right way to say what she meant, without saying something she didn't. When she had her mind made up she sighed, took a deep breath and continued. "I know what you're thinking. And you shouldn't be thinking that. None of this, no matter what you think, is your fault. She chose to go on the mission. No matter what you said to her, she would never have changed her mind. She chose to stay long enough to speak to the man. You weren't there to prevent it. She chose to go back to help him. You couldn't have done anything about that. You know how big her heart is; no matter what anyone would ever tell her, she would have felt guilty for the rest of her life had she not gone back to save him." She sighed and turned so that her whole body was facing his. She took both of his hands in hers and looked him straight in the eyes as she said her next words. "Harry, you are an amazing person. That's why I love you. You are so kind to everyone, and you are one of the most selfless person I have ever met. You were going let Voldemort bloody kill you if it meant saving all of us. No one will ever deny how wonderful you are. There is just one teensy little problem. You always blame yourself when it's not your fault. This isn't your burden to bear; so don't make your load heavier than it already is, or needs to be. You have enough on your mind, and enough blame on your soul for a lifetime. The last thing you need right now is more blame. This is no ones fault; not even Mione's. Fate has taken a twist on us, and right now fate is in control. We just have to sit back and enjoy the ride as we find out where it takes us."

"So you want us to just sit back and see what fate does to Mione?" Harry asked dumbstruck by what he thought she had just suggested.

She sighed and let out a small chuckle, which puzzled Harry greatly. "Of all my brilliant and breathtaking speech, that is all you got?" she asked, almost laughing now. "What about the whole part about how much I love you and how selfless you are?" Then she looked at him wearily and said, "Or if you want to dwell on the negatives, when I told you how you always blame yourself for something that is out of your control."

Harry looked at her and nodded his head tenderly staring at her, his head tilted slightly to one side as though he were calculating how to approach her. "You're right. I'm sorry." Then he took a breath and looked into her eyes so that she could see that he was telling to truth. "You were right about everything. I am always blaming myself for things beyond my reach, and I need to change that."

When she heard the words leave his mouth, she nodded and stood up; proud of herself for making him admit that much. "Well, with that said, I'm going to go take a nice warm shower and then we can talk about our plans for saving Mione." She gave him a quick smile and turned to walk to her room.

She was almost out the door when Harry ran up and caught her by the arm, pulling her back into a tight embrace. He held wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tightly in place, forcing her arms to wrap around his neck. When he knew she wasn't about to leave, he gave them some room to breathe, by loosening his grip slightly. "You didn't let me finish my brilliant speech." He said mock accusingly. When she let out a small chuckle and nodded her head, he took it as his cue to keep going. "You are the most spontaneous girl I have ever met. Every second I spend with you, you fill with your magnificent aura that makes me want to stay by your side forever. I love the way your hair falls so breathtakingly around your beautiful face. I love how no matter how stubborn, big headed, or completely idiotic I get, you are always there for me. And I love how you do whatever you like, whenever you like, not letting anyone tell you how bizarre and uncanny you are acting. Ginny Weasley," he paused for effect, as he continued to stare at the glowing eyes on her now tomato red face. "You are the love of my life, and I am never going to let you go."

Without even giving Ginny a chance to comprehend what he had said, he leaned into her and ignited a kiss. His lips crashed softly against hers and they began to act on their own, moving in sync with hers. He simply let go and let fate take charge, as Ginny had told him to. After he moment of shock, she responded with equal passion, letting herself succumb to Harry's warm, soft lips. When she parted her lips slightly so as to breathe, Harry shoved his tongue into her warm mouth and let it battle with hers playfully. Harry's hands remained firmly placed on her hips, and he pulled her closer to him every second, as though she could never be close enough to him. Ginny's hands were still wrapped around his neck tenderly, and tightened every time Harry's hands did.

Much too soon, Harry broke the contact and leaned back so as to give them space to breathe. Ginny looked back at him breathless, but eager for more. He could see it by the light in her eyes that only ever lit up after their kissing sessions. Eagerly she jumped back up for another round, but he softly pushed her back down.

"As much as I would love to stay here all day kissing you, we should get ready for our meeting with Ron and George about saving Hermione." Harry told her, a smile still on his face, even though he was just as keen for more of her lips. He had to learn to restrain himself, otherwise he would wound up undressing her in front of Ron; and he wasn't willing to see his best friend's reaction to that particular action.

Much to Harry's despair, he saw the fire in her eyes leave as she remembered their friend in danger. "I'm going to go take a shower." She whispered, slightly embarrassed and angry with herself for forgetting her friend. Then again she had been caught up in the moment.

* * *

><p>An hour and a half after Harry had awoken screaming, Harry and Ginny had both taken a shower, and all four of them had all called into work telling them they couldn't make it today. They all felt guilty about lying to their bosses, and in Ginny's case, her coach, but they felt there was no other way to go. Hermione needed them. She was in danger, saving a pureblood she hated, who was being tortured, and they were the only ones who knew about it. What else could they do? Had they gone to work, they would have been unfocused and jittery thinking that they could be plotting to save Hermione, but instead were stuck doing work for faceless people they would never meet. People who they were not in grave danger nor facing imminent death. They knew it was selfish, but for them, Mione came first. No one could change any of their minds, end of discussion.<p>

Ron had called the Minister and told him he was too sick to come to work, but would be eager to help him tomorrow on any of his plans when he was no longer under the weather. He continued his lie into saying that he wished he could have come and even forced himself to get ready for work. However, at the moment he was going to leave, found that he couldn't even walk without feeling queasy and dizzy. To suck up some more to his boss, he didn't forget to mention that he wished with all his heart that he could have come, regardless of his condition, but urged the minister to understand, that he would only hinder any progress they wanted to achieve that day. The Minister understood, and told Ron that since he was a member of the Golden Trio, he could take off as many days as he wished, and he would always be welcomed back as a hero. At those words, Ron had smiled to himself, knowing he had done enough to convince Minister Kingsley he indeed was feeling ill and that nothing else was going on. They couldn't have too many people knowing about this; it would cause panic and fear, and people were finally beginning to recover from the war.

George, being his own boss, called Lee Jordan, his new business partner since Fred had died. He told him to take charge for the day. He also told Lee that he would be back tomorrow and wanted to know everything that had taken place in his absence. He wanted every detail, ranging from which products sold the most, to what all the children who came in were gossiping about. George's excuse, which happened to be the truth, was that he wasn't up for work. Lee understood how hard everything still was on George, so he didn't say anything about it. He just assumed that he was mourning Fred because he remembered him after seeing his reflection in the mirror. It actually happened pretty often that George wasn't up for work, and left Lee in charge. They all understood how hard the post-war was on him, especially when half of him was missing. Fred and George were not only twins; they were practically parts of one another. They could see each other on a whole new level that was alien to everyone else. But this connection was gone now, and there was nothing anyone could do about it; no matter how much they wanted to.

Ginny, who had practice today with the Holyhead Harpies, her professional Quidditch team, told them she had a family issue and couldn't attend. She urged them to continue to practice without her, even though she was the team's best player and captain. She told them to do the usual drills and left Isabel McCloffin, the co-captain, in charge of practice. She notified Isabel of certain matters on the team, and what she had to focus on at this practice to make sure they were ready for their first match occurring the following week. Isabel had agreed happily to take her place, as she always wished she could have been captain. She assured Ginny everything would be under control and they would practice until they couldn't feel their legs anymore, and until their hair was so windswept they could never tame it again. Ginny had cringed slightly at the thought of her lower body being temporarily paralyzed from exertion, and her hair not going back to its usual state. It was no wonder why she wasn't captain; half the team would have quit after just one of her practices. However, Ginny tried to sound enthusiastic about her strategy so as not to upset Isabel. She couldn't have the girl bail on her; they needed someone to captain the team in her absence.

Harry had done likewise. He called into work saying he had an emergency to take care of today, and that he would catch up on whatever he had missed the next day. His boss had just told Harry that because of his help as an Auror, he could not work for the rest of his life and he wouldn't even care. In Harry's department there wasn't much work to do anyways. Harry had been working there since he had killed Voldemort, and he had been the youngest wizard to ever become an Auror, having skipped all the training, since he was already fully experienced. It was just another record Harry had broken. He had worked alongside multiple other Auror and betrayers of Voldemort, and eventually captured or killed, if that's what it really came to, all of the Death Eaters still loyal to the Dark Side. Even now, after only serving two and a half years, Harry had already captured more dark wizards than any other Auror in history. He was a hero in his office. Things had been incredibly peaceful, and roughly all they did was celebrate their victories. Things were pretty passive in the Auror's department at the Ministry, and in the Wizarding World in general. At least until now. This dream had changed everything. There was a dark wizard out there, and they needed to stop them before things got out of hand.

Once all the phone calls were made and the four of them had changed into their comfortable robes, they all sat around the table in Ginny's room. Ginny's room was far more orderly and organized than Harry and Ron's. She had a large bed shoved up against one wall on one side of her room, neatly made with her pillows and sheets in place. Along the other wall, on the opposite side of the room was a dresser next to her desk. The dresser was full of robes for all occasions, ranging from dress robes, to her everyday robes from Hogwarts. On top of her dresser were all of her personal items ranging from the Diamond necklace Harry had given her, to the latest merchandise from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes that she had bought. Above the dresser, hung a mirror at eye level for Ginny to use whenever she needed. Her desk was a jumble of paperwork that she was currently working on and though no one else could find any order in it, Ginny seemed to know exactly where everything was. It was filled with everything from job offers, to magazine clippings mentioning her achievements in the Quidditch section of the Daily Prophet. Her walls were filled with posters of the Holyhead Harpies so that you could barely even see the red and gold covering the walls. Lastly, in the center of the room, was a round table, with four chairs around it that she used when her friends or acquaintances came for meetings or fun. Though she had seen no need for it at first, now she seemed to use it almost every day. Right now for example.

When Ginny came and sat down after closing the door she said "Alright, now we can talk privately without anyone overhearing."

Three pairs of eyes all trained on Harry, and Harry's eyes gazed on his hands in front of him. He studied the scar on his hand, from that morning when he had scraped it on Sirius's mirror. Once again, a stab of pain hit his chest as he remembered the man. It seemed like just yesterday his last chuckle had been etched on his face, as he fell back into the arch; the veil which had taken his soul, and his body away from Harry. How he wished more than anything he could go back and kill Bellatrix before she had the chance to kill Sirius and all the others she had murdered over the years. _I could still do it_, he thought and his mind showed him an image of the timeturner Hermione had used in third year. But if he did, the outcome might be different with Voldemort, and he couldn't risk that. He couldn't risk putting everyone he loved, and everyone he didn't even know, both in the Wizarding and Muggle Worlds in danger because he might save his godfather. He thought about what might have happened to everyone, including Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. The thought of Hermione made him come back to reality and once again he stared at the scar on his hand. Thinking of his godfather brought him the courage to tell his friends what they needed to know.

Harry told them of the mysterious man in the chair, and how Hermione had entered the room. He told them how he had begged her to release him and her exact words, as far as he could remember. He told them what she had thought as she left and how she made the decision to turn around and help the man. When he finished he looked up, and saw three sets of worried eyes looking into his. He turned and spoke straight to Ron as he said the next part. "This dream wasn't like the others I've had. Usually I wake up and my scar hurts, but now it isn't. Also, I can never hear what anyone thinks except for the person who sent me the dream, which was always Voldemort. That means that Mione had to have sent me the dream, or else I wouldn't have heard her thoughts. She is in some kind of danger and she needs my help. I am sure that when I go to sleep tonight I will have a continuation of this dream. I will see where she is and what happened after that." Harry spoke, and only when he said it aloud did he realize how true what he said had to be. He saw the relief on Ron's face that this was not another scheme of Voldemort's to lure them in as he had done in their fifth year with Sirius.

"So what do we do now?" Ron asked impatiently. "Wait for you to sleep tonight and see what happens? What if she is in mortal danger? What if she is dying, or worse, dead? Plus I've never heard of any spell that you can make someone see something in their sleep, I thought that was just because of your connection with Voldemort that that was possible."

"So did I," Harry answered. "I guess there is though. You know that Mione knows way more spells than all of us combined, so with her anything is possible. And I don't know what to do. Everything I think of is either stupid or won't work."

Harry and Ron were so focused on each other they both jumped when Ginny spoke, "Who do you think the man is? Who would Hermione go back for?"

"Well she said he had been a Death Eater," Ron said, "But aren't all of those already dead or in Azkaban?"

"She also thought in her head that he had made her school years at Hogwarts miserable," Harry added on, "And there was only one Death Eater who went to school with us. He did make her years, and ours, a living hell, and isn't dead or in Azkaban. So there is only one person left that it can be. It's –"

"Malfoy!" Ron finished flabbergasted. "She went back to help Malfoy! God, I thought Hermione was the brilliant one here. Why on Earth would she go back for Malfoy? I told you we should have put that bloody traitor in Azkaban the moment we got a hold of him!"

"I don't think she went back for him," Harry said. "And not just because I know she would never go back for someone like that, but because of what she thought in the end. Her brain was moving so fast, but I got parts of it. She was confused as to who was holding him captive because there are no Death Eaters who would be angry with him. They are all locked up or dead thanks to him, yet no one in the ministry would do such a thing either. They all trust him. And plus I can't put him in Azkaban; he helped us capture all the remaining Death Eaters, even the ones we hadn't even heard of. He obviously had a change of heart."

"Or he was just trying to save his own arse from the dementors in Azkaban." Ron challenged. "He is a back-stabbing bastard. He just did that to save himself from pain and a terrible life. Please, there is not one compassionate bone in his body. Not one cell that cares for anyone but himself. Remember how at the Battle of Hogwarts he kept switching sides depending on who was threatening who. He –"

"Wait," George said startling them again because they had forgotten he was there, as absorbed in the conversation as they were. Ron looked stunned dumb from being interrupted in his rant on how terrible Malfoy was. "You said that Malfoy told us where all the Death Eaters were and who they were. Did any other Death Eater do that? Are any other Death Eaters not dead or in Azkaban?"

"Not that I know of," Harry said thinking hard. "The ministry let me be in charge of capturing Death Eaters because of my past involvement in the war and that they knew that I wanted revenge on them for all the pain they had caused me on orders or not. He was the only Death Eater who gave away other Death Eaters. But…." Harry's voice seemed to have been lost as became absorbed in his own thoughts.

"But what?" Ginny asked softly, taking Harry's hand again.

Ron and Harry looked at each other and what Harry was thinking seemed to dawn on Ron as his face was first filled with hatred, and then with a sense of impossibility. "No," Ron said. "He would never…. Would he? I mean…." Ron's voice also seemed to leave him as he began to dwell on the possibility like Harry had done before him.

"We don't know what their relationship was like," Harry countered.

"We know that he was willing to stop the war and bring you to him in order to make sure he was safe." Ron still argued.

"Yeah, but we also know that when Voldemort asked him, if he had joined 'Potter and his friends' that he had said 'Never' with such disdain I felt it through Voldemort's thoughts." Harry stated staring Ron down. "He would disown him if he had even said something nicer than a threat to me. It's the only logical answer."

Ron scowled and stared at Harry with the same intensity. Then he sighed and said "Yeah I guess, but it still seems a bit off if you ask me. I feel like we're missing a large piece of this."

"Merlin!" George screamed. "Look I know after so much time together you can practically read each other's minds without using a spell, but you might want to let me and Ginny on this." His whole body shook as he turned away from the other three, and he put his face in his hands. Huge sobs caused George's whole body to shake harder than it had before. Ginny ran over to his side and hugged him consolingly, trying to ease his pain. She glared over George's shoulder at Harry and Ron as though she were asking them what their problem was and how they could do this when they knew that George was so fragile these days. They just looked down sheepishly knowing it was the only thing she would approve under a gaze like that.

After a few minutes George calmed down and looked over at Harry and Ron. "I'm sorry" he said slowly so as not to break down again. "I shouldn't have done that to you. It's just sometimes things just get to me and I don't know what to do. I…" He got cut off by a lump in his throat and before he could break down again Harry spoke calmly and kindly.

"No," he said. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have had that private conversation with Ron without telling you what we were talking about. It was wrong of me."

George nodded his acceptance and looked sadly between Harry and Ron waiting for them to continue.

"I'm sorry too, George." Said Ron, wanting to say it himself and not just from Harry's mouth. He paused for a second, waiting for George to nod and when he did, Ron continued. "Harry seems to think that the person keeping Malfoy captive is none other than Lucius Malfoy himself. I'm trying to argue that this isn't a logical argument but he won't listen."

"Wait," Ginny said obviously confused. "Isn't Lucius Malfoy already in Azkaban? He was there since Harry defeated Voldemort wasn't he?"

"No." Harry said shortly. When he saw the look on Ginny's face was asking him to continue he added. "Lucius Malfoy claimed to be acting for Voldemort only because of fear of what he might to his family. That is also my Narcissa Malfoy joined Voldemort. She thought that by joining him, she would allow their son to go free from his reign and his wrath. That didn't work however; because they made Voldemort mad, being the careless people they are, thus he was 'chosen' to join the ranks in his sixth year."

"You seem to know them pretty well," George commented. "I thought you hated that family."

"I do." Harry stated, not wanting anyone to think the opposite. "But it's my job to know the background of troublesome wizards in our community, especially Death Eaters."

"Is Narcissa Malfoy also not in Azkaban?" Ginny asked quietly, fearing the answer.

"No." Harry said. "Don't ask me why. I have no idea. I think that they Ministry believed that they were only doing it to keep their family safe, even though that is what dozens of other families said as well, but that didn't help them get out of Azkaban. So I'm guessing that the Ministry may have also put into consideration what Malfoy – Draco Malfoy – did to help capture other Death Eaters, and said that this shows a change of heart, as I said earlier. Thus the Malfoy family, except for their son, were only in Azkaban until their trial was held, where they were cleared of all charges. Now they live in the Manor and keep mostly to themselves from what I've heard. Sure Malfoy isn't happy they excused them now, is he?"

"What makes you think Malfoy's dad is the one torturing him or keeping him captive?" George asked curiously.

"During the war, Ron, Hermione, and I went after the snake, because it was the last horcrux." Harry began. "So I searched for Voldemort in my mind so we would know where to find him. I discovered that he was in the shrieking shack speaking with Lucius Malfoy. Lucius was telling him to end the war so that he could attack just me and not kill the rest of the witches and wizards. But Voldemort wasn't stupid. He may have been evil and murderous and terrible and a parent killing freak –"

"Harry." Ron said quietly knowing how much the topic hurt him.

"Oh sorry." Harry said looking ashamed. His companions looked at him forlornly and he continued. "Anyways, Voldemort knew he was only doing it to see if his son was okay and to get him out of there. So he asked Lucius if he was sure that he hadn't joined or befriended 'Potter.' Lucius had answered 'Never' and the look on his face showed how much he hated me and the thought of his son befriending me. Based on that, I think that he would rather torture his son and kill him than see him betray the Death Eaters. He is ashamed to have him as a son. I think –"

"But didn't you say that Lucius and Narcissa only joined Voldemort so that Malfoy wouldn't have to, and that no harm would come to their family? Why would he then side with the Death Eaters after Voldemort is gone he has nothing to fear anymore?" George asked.

"Exactly!" Ron said.

"I don't know." Harry said, suddenly seeing the flaw in his idea. "It just made sense, until you said that. But no one else could be doing that. So I don't know what to think. Maybe he only joined Voldemort at first to make sure his family was safe, but in the end he changed to like his methods. He changed to actually liking the Death Eater ideas. Or maybe he fears the Voldemort isn't really dead and that he will return again. I mean people thought he was dead last time and he still returned didn't he. Maybe he thinks it will happen again, and by him torturing his son he thinks Voldemort will think that he still sided with him and the Death Eaters…." Harry stopped to think and before anyone could interrupt and find the flaw in that he found it himself and said. "But he didn't want any pain to come to his family, and he was willing to put everything at stake just to make sure his only son was safe, so why would he hurt him now. Urgh!" Harry screamed in confusion and irritation. "I don't know! I really don't know! I hate not knowing it makes me feel weak and vulnerable."

"It's ok, Harry." Ginny said soothingly. "We'll figure this out eventually."

"Eventually isn't soon enough, Ginny." Harry snapped at her harder than he meant to. She immediately broke contact with him and looked hurt. "Look, I'm sorry I'm just so tense from all of this and eventually won't be soon enough to save Hermione. She might be being tortured now." Harry said more calmly an apologetic look in his eyes. After a small pause Harry added, "I think Ron's right," When all he got for a response was a confused look on Ron's face he added, "We are missing a big part of it. But I have a feeling we'll find it out in the next dream or two."

Silence followed as they all thought about who might be keeping Malfoy captive and why. Ginny had a thought and quietly cleared her throat to gather the boy's attentions. "Harry," she started gently, "You said that multiple Death Eater families had the same defense reasons. They said either that they were 'threatened' or 'trying to save their family' or other crap like that. What if the Malfoys only claimed that this was the reason they joined the Death Eaters. What if they really wanted to join him, and now want to continue what he started? You know they are all pureblood mania. Remember in my first year, your second," she said motioning toward Harry and Ron. "When the Chamber of Secrets was opened and someone was attacked Malfoy had screamed 'You're next mudbloods.' It is obvious that his family hates muggleborns. It would make perfect sense for them to agree with what Voldemort thinks."

When she finished Ginny finally looked up to see what the boys thought of the conclusion she had reached. She saw George staring out the window, obviously deep in thought, whether it was on what Ginny had just said, or whether it was on something completely unrelated, she did not know. Ron was staring at the floor mumbling quietly to himself about the possibility of what Ginny and Harry were trying to prove. Harry was staring right at Ginny, his eyes shining with admiration of her, and his insides flowing with gratitude towards her. How amazing she was to have thought through his idea, and proved it plausible and reasonable. When her eyes met his, he smiled, and cleared his throat as Ginny had earlier.

"I think that what Ginny says is right, but I want to go to the Auror's office and check the file on the Malfoys to see what their exact words were on the matter. They were under a magical oath that can't be broken unless one utters an incantation, which would have been heard by all of the people in the courtroom. Maybe there is a loophole in what they said, which makes it true, but not the full truth. Maybe like I said earlier, they did join him at first only to keep his family safe, but then in the end they changed to like his motives. I will go and check it out tomorrow, but now I want to ask you another question."

"What is it?" asked Ron. When he asked the question he looked out the window he saw the sun was melting behind the hills in the distance, casting streaks of pinks, purples, and oranges throughout the sky. Nearby he could see a few of the early stars twinkling as they became visible in the darkness. Darkness was consuming the world outside as day changed to night, and darkness was consuming Ron, as he thought of Hermione locked in the room being tortured right beside Malfoy. He would save her if it was the last thing he did. "Will it help us save her?" Ron asked his eyes shining with hope as he tore them away from the darkness looming outside, to see his best mate's face.

"Not quite," Harry said, and he saw Ron's face fall as the words fell upon his ears. "It's about Malfoy."

"Why the bloody hell do you wanna talk about Malfoy?" Ron bellowed back. "This is about saving Mione, not Malfoy."

"It's one of the reasons that Mione went back for him." Harry answered calmly, trying to ease his best mate's anger. "I…" Harry struggled how to start. "You know how Death Eaters had a Dark Mark burned on the skin of their left arm? Well Malfoy's left arm seemed to be injured. He couldn't even lift it without wincing or inflicting pain upon himself. Mione thought this was curious, she knew something had to be wrong with his arm. She thought about this and came to the conclusion she assumed was correct so quickly, I completely missed it all. She really does think quickly, much faster than I ever will."

"So you think something is wrong with his Dark Mark?" George asked, finally pulling his gaze away from the window, and his thoughts from wherever they had been. His face seemed to be reserved as though he were hiding something from them; hiding something he knew, but didn't think it was the right time to share.

"That's what Hermione thinks, at least. I have to agree with her, but I don't know what it could be." Harry said his face once again in his hands with frustration.

"Maybe they hurt him," Ginny said. "If it really is Death Eaters keeping him captive they'd be mad at him for giving them away. They probably would have thought of him as a disgrace to Death Eaters and removed his Mark. How? I have no idea. Maybe they burned it off, maybe they tore off the flesh, maybe they did millions of other things they could have done to remove the Mark. Whatever they did, it is obviously causing him a lot of pain."

Once again, the three boys looked up at her in shock at how far ahead in thought she seemed to be from the rest of them on the matter. She seemed to rasp onto ideas and facts and create conclusions almost as fast as Hermione. She really should have considered a job in the Magical Law Enforcement Office. Then again, she was just as amazing at quidditch.

"I don't care about Malfoy, we only need to save Mione from this." Ron said interrupting the silence.

"We have to figure out as much as we can and it may take some time to do so –" Harry started.

"I don't care how long it takes we are going to save Hermione." Ron stated firmly. "Even if it's the last thing I do, I will save Hermione! Even if she is dead, I will save her body from that dreadful place. I will save Hermione!"

"And Malfoy." Ginny said softly.

"What?" Ron asked in complete shock and confusion. The three boys stared at her, and Ron continued. "Have you gone completely mad, Ginny? Or completely mental? That man was, is –"

"I know he is your enemy." Ginny said back just as calmly as she had before. "But he helped capture or kill all the Death Eaters. He had obviously had a change of heart, as Harry said, and whatever they are doing to Hermione now if they caught her, has to be nothing compared to what Draco's gone through." She sated firmly.

"Don't get me wrong Ginny," Harry said. "I said he had a change of heart, but I didn't mean that I wanted to save him for it. Maybe Ron's right and he was only trying to save his damn arse from Azkaban. Maybe –"

"Oh 'Draco' is it now, not 'Malfoy'!" Ron yelled back before Harry could finish. "Might as well go and get your own Dark Mark and join him and the Death Eaters in Azkaban. No sister of mine will ever save –"

"Save a man who is suffering for helping the world rid of evil. Then you might as well disown me now. We either save Draco Malfoy, or I leave right now!" Ginny yelled back at him, completely losing her calm state. When she spoke her next words she spoke directly at Harry. "Doesn't he remind you a bit of Snape. He joined the Death Eaters too. But then he changed sides. You hated Snape too, hated him as much as you hate Draco. But now you hold this man as highly as you hold your parents, Sirius, and Lupin. You forgave him because of what you saw in the pensieve. You forgave Snape; can't you forgive Draco if you see that his story is similar to Snape's?"

The words she spoke hit Harry like a bullet through the heart. "That's different," he started. "I had proof that Snape had changed. I know nothing about Malfoy, and haven't heard anything about him for almost two years." He paused again and composed himself then said. "Ginny, no one is leaving." Harrry told her firmly. "We'll just talk this over. I can't lose you…. Again."

"Then give me your word now that you will do everything in your power to save Hermione and Draco, or else I leave now and you will lose me." She answered back.

"That's not fair!" Started Ron. "You know he would never risk losing you. You're playing with him. How could –"

"I'm not playing with him Ron! I want your word Harry or I go now!" Ginny answered completely hurt he could accuse her of such a thing. She loved Harry, and would never 'play' with him.

Harry stared at the floor and hesitated before saying grimly. "You have my word that I will do everything in my power to make sure that Hermione and Malfoy are rescued."

Satisfied, Ginny looked over at George.

"You have my word," he mumbled almost incoherently, once again staring out the window deep in thought, about something he was not yet willing to share with his temperamental siblings, and their sorrow stricken best mate. His face was passive and reserved, but he knew the time would come to tell them, but it was not now. He had some time to prepare himself for what he needed to say. He couldn't tell them that information until they were ready. For now, he was content with them thinking he was lost in thought about Fred, as he stared out the window. By this time almost all the stars were visible and the sun had completely disappeared, leaving the only the moon and stars, shining their light on everything down below.

Ginny nodded in appreciation at George and turned to Ron with a brooding look on her face, daring him to decline her request and make her leave, breaking his best mate's fragile heart in the process.

Ron stared back at her baring the same expression that was definitely a Weasley thing, and said, "You have my word." When she turned away a brilliant smile on her face, he added under his breath. "That I will do everything I can to make sure Hermione gets rescued and Malfoy gets what he deserves."

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you liked Chapter 2! Sorry it took so long to update but my biology teacher is insane... we have sooo much homework from her! Oh well, I hope to update the next chapter soon, and it will be much more interesting than this one. In the meantime please please please please review and tell me what you thought!<strong>

**Also I have another potterhead thing for you! Please watch this amazing video! Everytime I watch this i cry and get goosebumps and It is the best fanvideo i have ever seen! Here's the link: .com/watch?v=DFBzZfxkWUg**

**Like always I have a song that will help you see what will happen later in the story. This chapter's song is the song in the video above. It is called The War by Thirty Seconds to Mars!**

Thanks again for reading and reviewing!

-hplvr4ever


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey there fellow Potterhead Fanfictioners. Today is a bittersweet day. The last Harry Potter movie is going out on DVD, and now there is no more waiting. I don't whether to cry or to jump for joy. #HarryPotterFilmFinale was the number one trend on Twitter all of yesterday, which was amazing! Potterheads truly have a lot of power.**

**Today is also 11/11/11! It only happens once a century so I hope you made good wishes. I posted this chapter at 11:11 pm, just for fun.**

**By the way, I apologize for the late update. I realize that it has been seven weeks. I had the first chapter all written, but then I lost my flash drive with my story on it. I also had some really good one shot on there. I spent about three weeks searching for it, and I finally decided to just rewrite this chapter so as not to keep you hanging any longer. I'm really sorry though, and this won't happen again.**

**I hope you enjoy this next chapter, I realize the last one was a bit slow, and the beginning of this one is too. It is just necessary for the flow of the story though. Well enough of my talking. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3**

Dinner that night passed in silence. Even though the rest of the Weasleys had no idea what had happened, they had all come to their own assumptions. Roughly half of them figured that Harry had experienced another nightmare from his days fighting Voldemort and the other half just assumed he had seen something that reminded him of the war or some deceased friend of relative. None of the, however, were aware that Hermione was in grave danger or that she was with a known enemy. None of them knew the truth.

The table, which was situated in the yard, was filled to the brim, with chairs coming out from all directions, almost having to be piled one over the other to fit. All the Weasleys, Harry, and Teddy, Harry's godson, were present, and eagerly awaiting the delicious meal Molly had prepared. They all sat in their usual seats, inhaling the warm, pleasant smells of the food wafting into the air and tingling their senses. Even though some of them were famished, and the smell was literally killing them, they all waited patiently for Molly to say that it was okay to begin eating.

At her words, "Well, tuck in," everyone reached across the table of their favorite dishes.

There were clangs of dishes hitting the table, and utensils hitting plates, but other than those natural dinner table sounds everything was silent.

At the head of the table sat Arthur Weasley looking fondly over his children and their families, looking his usual self. His red hair was combed messily over his head and his neat clothes were still on from work, making him look both elegant and simple at once. He seemed content, as he eyed the small, forming families surrounding him, but his mind seemed elsewhere; most likely on his newest muggle discovery at work.

Beside him, sat his wife, Molly Weasley. The plump witch was still in her apron from cooking dinner, looked absolutely delighted. This was the first dinner where all of her children were present, in a while. Her eyes were bursting with happiness and her vibrant smile never left her face, as she glanced around the table to sneak glances at her children ravenously eating her food. Her red hair had multiple grey streaks, and no matter how many magical hair dyes she tried, a few still broke through. But at this moment, the grey hairs seemed to recede, and she looked years younger with that joyous smile plastered on her face.

Across the table from Molly sat Bill, Arthur and Molly's eldest son, with his wife, Fleur, and their two-year-old daughter Victorie. She was bouncing up and down in her seat as her father tried to silently calm her down, so as not to disrupt the silence that had settled over the table. Her mother was delicately placing different foods, she thought her daughter would enjoy, on Victorie's plate. Bill's hand reached up to brush a strand of his auburn hair that had fallen into his eyes, which shone with a mix of pride and joy as he struggled with his daughter. Beside them, Fleur was smiling slightly, as her family wrestled, still looking beautiful and flawless as ever.

Suddenly, Victorie's hand flew up as she flailed in Bill's arms, while he attempted to tame her. As it passed through the air, her arm collided with her father's face, right where the scars he had received from the werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, lay. He winced and let go of his daughter as his hands rushed up to cover his face, in a feeble attempt to diminish the pain.

Victorie looked up when she found that her father was no longer trying to restrain her, and realized what she must have done. Immediately she sat still and put the best innocent look she could muster in her eyes. People were always impressed by how manipulative she could be, especially at the tender age of two, and assumed that her parents must have been Slytherins.

A panicked expression broke over Fleur's face as she looked over at her husbands face and watched him, earnestly waiting to see his reaction and expression, for any sign on how he was feeling.

When he pulled his hands away from his face and looked up he saw the whole table's eyes on him, worry etched on all their faces. He nodded, signaling that he was okay and they all went back to eating in their peaceful silence. Fleur, and the rest of them, understood he didn't want people reminding him of his battle scar, especially on an evening as special as this one, where his whole family was present.

Across from the new family, sat Charlie, single as ever. His hair was back to how it had been before the war, and he was finally back to his usual self after years of mourning losses of his friends and family. He had realized that life couldn't stop when someone else died, and that for all he knew he might be next. He tried explaining this to George but he had just blocked him out.

As Charlie glanced up over at George, what he saw scared him. Even after almost three years of recovery and mourning, George still looked no better than he had the moment Fred had died before their eyes, his last laugh still etched on his face, and echoing through their ears, as he fell to the ground lifeless before them.

He was still looking out into space, as though deep in thought, and hadn't even registered the commotion a few seats down from him. His fiancé, Angelina Johnson, was seated beside him looking much like she had at Hogwarts. Upon registering her fiancé's blank expression, she squeezed his hand consolingly, showing him that she was there for him. Fred's death was hard on her too; after all, she had dated him.

Angelina glanced up in the direction George was staring and was momentarily distracted by Percy, who was mouthing messages to his pregnant wife, Audrey. He obviously didn't want to disrupt the silence, but at the same time, wanted to communicate with her.

They were still arguing about the name that their daughter should have. Percy wanted to name her Molly, but Audrey stubbornly insisted on Lucy. Their argument had time, as they still had five months until Audrey was due, but Angelina found it rash that they argue like this. She wasn't even pregnant yet and George had already agreed with her that their first child would be named either Fred or Roxxane, depending on their gender.

Also noticing the exchange were Ron and Ginny. They were seated across from Harry, who sat beside his hyperactive godson, Teddy, at the far end of the table. Other than the restless three-year-old, they were all staring into their plates silently, as if hoping Hermione would just appear on their plates, safe and sound.

None of them were in the mood to discuss much, and they all gladly accepted each other's silence, as they submerged themselves in their own thoughts. To Harry, the quiet was a nice gift after a night of restless sleep, and a day full of rowdy discussions.

Knowing it was inevitable, Harry broke the silence by reaching over to the toddler beside him. He was still suffering internally, both in fear and despair for Mione, but he could not let it startle the little boy beside him.

He reached over and lightly and picked up Teddy's plate from the table. "Hey Teddy," he spoke calmly and quietly to the boy beside him, pausing to take a deep breath before continuing. "What would you like to eat today?"

"Me want spaghetti!" the delighted little boy yelled. Then he giggled quietly to himself as his voice echoed through the quiet house.

"Okay." Harry answered, attempting to sound happy for Teddy's sake, if not for his own. However, once he spoke, even he could hear the disastrous attempt at happiness in his voice, as his true feelings of helplessness and despair broke through.

Teddy, however, didn't seem to notice, and once he was served seemed enthralled with his food. Once again, silence had returned to the table, except for the occasional giggle from the overly happy Teddy, who seemed to enjoy playing with his pasta, rather than eating it. He would throw a piece of pasta up in the air and wait for it to fall onto his plate, while he tried unsuccessfully to catch each piece on his fork. On the seventh time he threw a piece up, it stayed mobilized in the air. Teddy looked up at it in confusion, and glanced around the table to see who was causing his pasta to hover.

When he looked around he saw that all of the eyes on the table were trained on the spaghetti dangling in the air; except for George, who was still staring out into the distance, once again oblivious to the commotion.

"Alright," Molly said breaking the enchanted silence. "Whoever's doing it, let go of the pasta now."

Nothing happened, and all the eyes remained glued to the spaghetti suspended in the air.

"I mean it!" Molly barked when she too saw that nothing had changed in the position of the suspended spaghetti.

At a time like this she would have yelled 'Fred and George!' but now one was gone forever, and the other was lost in his own gloomy world.

When still nothing happened, Molly said, "Alright, I want everyone's wands here now."

There was a rustle of clothing as each of the witches and wizards took their wands out of their pockets and passed them down the table in Molly's direction.

Once Molly had all the wands, all the eyes drifted back to the pasta, which remained suspended in the air over Teddy's head.

Harry tried to speak, but found his throat blocked, so he cleared it once and tried again to speak. "Molly, I don't think anyone is doing anything to the pasta," Harry said slowly. "I believe that Teddy is showing some of his magical abilities." Even though they all knew that it was typically common for wizards and witches to show their first signs of magic when they were seven, it was known that for powerful wizards there could be signs before then, like the pasta hanging in the air.

There was a fiery glow in Harry's eyes full of pride and joy, much like a parent after their child graduates. This was, after all, the first time his godson had shown signs of magic. It was an incredibly significant event in any wizard's life, always causing the parents to be proud, or in this case, the godfather.

Molly smiled softly at Harry in understanding; she had, after all, gone through this day not only in her own life, but also seven more times, once in each of her children's lives.

Molly passed the wands back to their owners, who were anxiously looking around the yard, feeling defenseless. Ron, Ginny, and George looked particularly nervous as though someone might spring up from the bushes and AK them.

Only Harry seemed to be so absorbed in Teddy's newfound skill to care about the dangers that might be lurking in the shadows.

…

While Molly was magically washing the dishes, she was pleasantly surprised when some of her son's wives and fiancés decided to help her in clearing he table.

She smiled softly, knowing her sons had made the right decisions after all, even if initially she thought they were too good for these women.

Ginny came and wrapped her hand tightly around Harry's wrist. She put one slim finger to her lips, and her face told Harry exactly what she expected of him: Shut up and follow me, no arguments. Then she swiftly pulled him into the closet at the end of the hall.

The area was so small that Harry was slightly pushed up against Ginny. He looked around, tilting his head faintly as his eyes traveled over the broom closet. He found a shelf above his head, containing folded towels and other supplies ranging from brooms to mops to dusters. He didn't see what the purpose was with all these muggle contraptions; one simple spell could do the same job more efficiently and leisurelier.

"My father has been hiding these here for about a month. He shoes here because Mom rarely comes here, preferring to send one of us to get her whatever she needs instead" Ginny answered the question in Harry's eyes as he eyes the mops and dusters warily, memories of his time at the Dursley's flashing in his mind's eye.

"Oh," was all he could manage. He should have assumed it had something to do with Arthur.

They stood in more silence for a bit and finally Harry decided to break it. "Now I know what young people normally do in broom closets. I myself have never done such a thing, not even at Hogwarts, and I don't plan on starting now, when any moment your father or mother or siblings could open the door. They would mist likely kick me out or –"

"No one is going to kick you out Harry, and if they want to, you have Ron, and George, and Bill, and Charlie, and me on your side."

"I'm not sure they'd be on my side once they saw me shagging you in the closet." Harry retorted.

She gave him an amused look, and spoke, "That isn't why I pulled you into this closet. I want to talk to you."

"And we couldn't talk in the hallway, or in your room? We just have to talk in a broom closet where someone could walk in and get the wrong idea?" Harry's voice got progressively louder as he spoke.

He pulled out his wand, and Ginny tried to back away from him, fear and surprise filling her eyes.

Harry looked at her dumbstruck. "You think I am going to hurt you?" he asked her flabbergasted, his disbelief clear in his voice.

"Well you are really angry and you pulled out your wand, and –" Ginny mumbled nervously under Harry's disbelieving gaze.

Harry cut her off with a searing kiss, making sure to put as much emotion and love as he could into it. Ginny was surprised at first, but almost immediately began eagerly kissing back, putting her hands around his neck, in order to pull him closer as his hands wrapped firmly around her waist.

Much too soon, Harry pulled away, though he kept his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He whispered softly into her ear, "I would never hurt you. Ever. And don't you ever thing that I will. I would do anything to ensure your safety, even keep you in an impenetrable plastic box."

Ginny chuckled slightly at the last part, though she had no doubt that if Harry could do that, he would.

"Muffliato" Harry spoke, pointing his wand at the closet door, his arms still wrapped around Ginny's waist, pushing her up against him. She kissed his cheek softly, before she pulled away from his embrace, and wrapped her arms around herself.

Harry looked at her confused. She looked nervous, and unsure of herself. Ginny was never self-conscious, it was one of the things he loved about her.

"So, if it wasn't for the conclusion I came to, why in Merlin's beard did you pull me into a closet in your parents house?" He asked a smile spreading over his face as he looked into her eyes, though inside he feared her answer, seeing how uncharacteristically nervous and unsure she seemed.

"I came here," she started softly, still fidgeting slightly.

"Yes," Harry prompted. Ginny was starting to scare him, but he masked his fear, and tried to look calm and happy for her sake.

She looked down at her hands as she continued, "I came here to tell you," she paused again and took a deep breath. "To tell you that Mione and I, we, um, Mione and I," her throat felt so dry all of a sudden.

Ginny," Harry began taking her petite hands in his. "Whatever it is, you can always tell me, you know. I'm here for you. Always, no matter what."

"I know, it's just, that, oh Harry," she looked up to see his eyes, hers shining with unshed tears. "When Hermione left, we had just been talking and she told me, she told me." Ginny's voice faltered and she reached forward and pulled Harry close to her, as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.

Harry was going his best not to look impatient and angry with Ginny. He just wanted her to spit it out already, but he knew that whatever it was, it must be hard on her. He just hugged her back tightly, and absentmindedly kissed the top of her head lightly, hoping that she would speak when she was ready.

"Mione told me that she knew someone was being held captive. She didn't know it was Malfoy, but she knew someone was there." She mumbled quietly into Harry's chest, as a few stray tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Glad to see your back to calling him Malfoy," Harry murmured into her hair.

"That's all you got from that?" she asked him irritably.

"Of course not." He stated, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "But if Mione knew that there was someone being held captive, why didn't she alert the Aurors?"

"You know us Gryffindors, and our bloody courage. She thought it was a trap, and didn't want anyone to get into danger. She though she could sacrifice herself so that no one else would get hurt. She knew the Auror's would find out soon and she couldn't risk putting you in danger again. She said 'His life is too hard as is, he needs a break.'"

"I know I would have done the same thing had I been in her place, so I can't get mad at her. But why did she tell you and not Ron and I?"

"Well she didn't tell Ron because, well you know why. And you, she knew you would try to stop her." Ginny said quietly, feeling him tense in her arms.

"Well she was damn right." Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"You've had a long day. You should go to sleep –"

"And have another dream." Harry grimaced at the mere thought. "Even sleep isn't peaceful these days."

Ginny looked into his eyes sadly, knowing how he was feeling and wishing she could do something about it. She gave him a quick peck on the lips, and said, "We should go back before Mom sends out a search party for us."

Harry gave her a weak smile and nodded his head, opening the closet door, and pulling her out of the closet and into the Burrow, where indeed, the Weasleys seemed to be searching for the missing couple.

…

Harry sat on his bed and looked at the mirror hanging on the far wall. He didn't know what this night would bring him, and he feared the worst. His thoughts drifted as he sat, think of Hermione, and Malfoy, and all those who would be evil enough and hate Malfoy enough to do something so cruel to him.

Before he knew it, he had drifted off into a restless slumber, and dreams of Hermione, Malfoy, and their capture filled his mind.

…

Once again, Harry found himself looking inside the dark, cold room. In the middle of the square space, Draco was bound in two chains suspended in midair. He had many of the same scars and bruises he had had in the last dream, so not much time could have passed. A faint light illuminated his body and his golden hair seemed to shimmer in the gloom, though the rest of the room remained plunged in darkness.

From somewhere in the darkness a familiar woman's voice crooned "You have been giving us some trouble Draco." In the darkness, there seemed to be movement as what Harry thought was her body paced around the room.

Draco remained motionless and unresponsive, trying to avoid the woman's gaze no matter how hard she tried to meet his. He seemed to be suffering and Harry found himself wondering what the woman had done to him so that her mere appearance made him feel so frightened.

"When I talk to you, you will answer Draco!" she screamed. "_Crucio_!"

Draco's body shook with pain and his face contorted with rage. He wanted so badly to hurt that woman, to kill her. But he had to keep still. He had to not give away Hermione who was crouched in the corner hiding, no doubt wanting to help him with the kind heart and Gryffindor courage he had. She had come back to him after all, and she hated him. He had come to the conclusion that she was either really brave, really stupid, or really kind. He knew she wasn't stupid, but the other two seemed fair game.

Draco shook these thoughts from his head as he concentrated on not screaming in pain. However, these thoughts were all it took for him to lose his concentration, and his screams echoed through the room.

Hermione sat in the corner, her hands covering her ears, as tears ran endlessly down her cheeks. She wanted to step forward and help him, but she knew that if she stayed hidden, she could help him even more than she could now, by setting him free. Once again her logic won over her kind heart, and she knew she had done the right decision.

Finally satisfied at Draco's pain, the woman stopped the spell, and continued to pace around the room and watch Draco.

After a few moments, when she heard Draco's ragged breaths cease, she began her insistent questioning again. "A girl came in here earlier, didn't she Draco?"

Hermione stared at the wall in horror, unsure what to do. How did she know that she was here? She hadn't seen her. If she had, Hermione would no doubt be in just as much pain as Draco right now, bound by chains by his side.

At her words, Draco tensed, and put all of his willpower not to look at the corner of the room, in which Hermione hid, so as to make sure that she was still there and safe.

The woman, however, did not miss Draco's sudden tense, and she put up a finger to beckon a man forward. He stepped out of the darkness and stood at her side. Their bodies were illuminated in the faint light, but their faces remained masked in the darkness so that one could not identify them.

"Who was she? What did you tell her?"

Once again Draco remained unresponsive and still, as if hoping that if he didn't answer the woman would just leave him. So Draco just stared at the floor about two meters beneath his feet, not uttering a sound.

"Draco! When I ask you a question you will answer me! _Crucio_!" The woman screamed, almost repeating her previous statement.

Once again, Draco attempted not to scream, but once again they broke through no matter how hard he tried.

He screamed for five minutes straight, causing Hermione to squirm and shiver from head to toe. She practically stood up to his aid. What kind of person cast the Crutiatus curse for five minutes straight?

When the spell let out, the woman didn't even wait for Draco's breath to steady as she did last time. "You have one last chance Draco. Answer me!"

"Nothing," Draco said, finally giving up. "I told her nothing."

It was the truth, he hadn't told her anything yet. The moment she had come back and told him she wanted to help, they had heard footsteps, and he had urged her to hide in the darkened corner before his captors appeared. He promised her that he would protect her, because she was his only hope, and he owed her for all his actions and words in school.

"And this girl," she said the last word with such disgust, Draco couldn't help but wonder if she knew that the girl was the 'mudblood' who had helped in the downfall of Voldemort. After a short pause she continued. "Is she still here?" The tone of her voice showed that she was obviously not satisfied with his answer, but pleased that she had ultimately broken him.

Draco once again eyed the floor unsure what to say in response. He knew he couldn't lie because she could sense lies, no matter how Slytherin he was. He just sat there waiting for her to ask again so that he would have time to think of an answer.

"Draco." She said, her voice dangerously angry. "Is she still here?"

…

Harry woke with a start, leaving Draco's answer and Hermione's safety unknown. All he could hear was the woman's voice in the back of his mind. He knew that voice. He knew that woman. But it couldn't be. It just couldn't be her.

…..

**I hope you liked it! I promise to update sooner next chapter, so you will not have to wait as long. Also some of you only followed or favorited, could you please also leave a comment. I really appreciate it! Thank you for the reviews, I take them all into consideration, and I think I have answered all of them. It means a lot, so thanks again.**

**If you have a guess as to who the two captors are please tell me in PM or in a comment. I would love to know what you think, though I doubt that you will get it right. There is a lot still not revealed in the story.**

**I hope all you potterheads enjoy the last movie on DVD… I know I will be spending all weekend watching the special features and staring at Tom Felton (I've had a crush on him since I was 7). Sigh… Hope you enjoy your weekends too.**

**My songs for the chapter are "The One That Got Away" by Katy Perry. Tell me this song does not remind you of Dramione and you'd be lying. Also "Kiss Me Slowly" by Parachute. This song is perfect for Dramione as well. This will take place later in the story.**

**hplvr4ever**

**P.S. Just curious, but how many of you dressed up as a HP character for Halloween? I was Hermione, so my hair stayed frizzy for like a week, but it was worth it. I actually spent most of the day crying over Lily and James's 30****th**** anniversary of their death. It was number one on Twitter and on Tumblr I kept posting pics about it. What about you?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello my wonderful readers! Guess what tomorrow (December 21) is? It's my BIRTHDAY! So please, please, please, please review this chapter, it would be the best birthday present ever! **

**Sorry this chapter took so long, I have spent all my free time on Twitter begging Tom Felton to mention me in a tweet and say Happy Birthday! I really hope he does, I can feel my heart breaking because he hasn't done it already… Some of my friends made Twitter accounts just so that they could join me in begging him to wish me a happy birthday. I love my friends, if your reading this, I am so happy to have friends as good as you!**

**I am planning to write multiple chapters over winter break, so I will probably update more quickly afterwards, though I will have no internet connection where I am going, so it might be a while before I actually post the next chapter.**

**Well in the meantime enjoy! Happy Holidays to all of you! Please review; it would be the best birthday present ever! 33333333**

**- hplvr4ever**

**Chapter 4**

Lying on his bed, facing the ceiling, Harry was recounting his latest dream in his mind. He took every second of the story and sat contemplating the outcomes of Malfoy's answer to the forceful, evil woman. If he lied about Hermione still being in the room, and she saw through his lie, Malfoy and Hermione were either both dead or both currently being tortured to death. If he actually gave away Mione's location in hopes that he would be freed if they caught her, she was dead. Harry doubted the ruthless woman would let him free, even if he turned Hermione in, so Malfoy was probably not far behind her if the torture continued like it currently was. Either way, Hermione was in danger, and either way, so was Malfoy. Harry had to act, and he had to act soon. He was wasting too much time and it was time that he started to see the message Hermione was sending him and begin to save her.

Half an hour later, Ron came into the room, and sat down on the edge of his own bed, his arms propping him up, as he looked over the form of his disheveled friend. "Anything new?" he asked, an eager tone in his voice. His eyes had dark circles underneath them, and Harry couldn't help but wonder if Ron had watched him all night, for some kind of sign of what was happening to Hermione. He would not put something like that past him, especially since he had been in love with Hermione for years.

"Yes," Harry answered, his eyes shifting away from Ron, and back to the ceiling, studying the same spot they had been staring at earlier. "You're never going to believe me though. I think my mind is playing tricks on me. It's not possible, I mean, it just can't be!"

"Relax Harry, this stress and anxiety we all have isn't helping anyone. I'll go get Ginny and George, and you gather your thoughts in the mean time. I think they should be here to hear this too, and I don't want you to have to say it twice in your state. You look like you could kill something. And frankly I don't think you should do that, it wouldn't exactly be good for people to see The Boy Who Lived killing people." Ron attempted to joke, trying to ease his friend's tenseness.

When Harry didn't even crack a smile, Ron got up from his bed, stopping beside Harry's. He looked down at the mess that was his best friend, and felt furious at the world. Harry never got a break, did he? First he spent all of his childhood getting ready for a fight with the darkest wizard of all time, while all the while being attacked yearly by some kind of enemy. And then he spent a whole year of his life weakening the monster of a man, before he had to fight him to the death. Now just when he was starting to have a normal life, once again things became out of control. One of his best friends was in mortal danger, another madman was on the lose holding her captive, and he had no idea how to save Hermione. Ron wanted to apologize to him, to tell him that he was with him no matter what, and to promise that one day they would see peace and happiness again. Not knowing how to put any of these thoughts into words however, he sufficed by putting a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder, and a offering a curt nod in his direction.

He hoped this action would express all of his emotions and show Harry that he was with him until the very end, no matter what. He hoped this simple gesture would show how sorry he felt for him, and how he wished things could be different, and that Harry could actually have a chance at a normal life for once. When Harry turned his head to the side to look at Ron, he knew Harry understood, when his eyes shone with a thin line of tears, and he nodded back causing a few stray tears to leak out of his eyes.

With that, Ron left the room to find his siblings, leaving Harry staring up at the ceiling, with tearstained cheeks, once again lost in thought at the impossibilities of the scenes he had just witnessed last night.

…...

When Ron reemerged with his siblings, Harry was still in the same position. His green eyes had a distant look with his glasses lying askew on top of them, barely covering his pupils. His cheeks had wet trails, and he kept sniffling as though he had a bad cold. His clothes were still rumpled from his restless sleep and the bed's sheets were just barely holding onto the bed, only one corner latched in place. His blanket was already in a different zip code, and his pillows were tossed to the side of his bed, practically hanging in thin air.

The three Weasleys looked at him in uncertainty, unsure whether they should let him think, or wake him from his reverie so that he could let out his emotions.

Luckily, the moment they sat down on three chairs they had magically made appear, Harry sat up on his bed, and spoke. "I think I know who is keeping Malfoy captive." He started getting straight to the point, not wanting to waste time while Hermione could be in danger. "Now before I tell you who I think it is, I need you to swear that you won't laugh at me, or call me a liar or mad or even a bloody idiot. I am in just as much shock as you are, and I have no idea what to think, or how it is even possible. I mean it can't be, I saw it happen with my own eyes."

"Of course we won't do any of those things Harry," Ginny said, getting up and putting her arms reassuringly around his waist, as she hugged him close to her, her auburn hair tickling the top of his chest, where the shirt didn't reach. "I speak for all of us when I say that I have complete faith and trust in you. Don't forget that. Ever."

"Yeah," Ron added. "I trust you with my life, Harry. You should know that after all we have been through. No matter how mad what you say sounds I am here for you and I believe you."

"I do know that, it's just that this is impossible," Harry answered a small smile forming on his lips at their kind words. "If I were you, I would call me mad too. I just needed to make sure you wouldn't do what I would have done. I guess I knew all along that you would believe me, just sometimes hearing it out loud makes it more believable." He paused and looked down at his hands one last time before he spoke. "Ron, I think we were partially right. Lucius is there, and he was helping in his son's capture. But he, however, is not the main captor."

Ron nodded his head confidently, trying to show Harry he was still there for him. "Okay, so your saying that there is another person involved in his capture. Do you know who it is?"

"I'm not sure, though from last night's dream, I have only one possible answer, and this one seems impossible." Harry said, once again looking down at his hands, unsure how to tell them who he thought it was.

"Who do you think it is?" Ginny asked softly, her arms tightening around Harry's waist in anticipation of his answer.

Not knowing how to tell them, but needing to get the information off of his chest, Harry spoke one word that he thought would sum it up. "Bellatrix."

Ron choked, and Ginny began shaking around him, whether out of fear or disbelief Harry did not know. George was looking out the window again, but once Harry spoke, his eyes became wide in shock and his jaw hung open. They all looked at Harry, and all of their eyes seemed to be asking the same question "How?"

"I'm not sure, Harry said, his distressed hands running through his hair as he scowled at the ground.

"I'm not saying your wrong," Ron started carefully, not wanting to hurt his best friend, but needing to show him how impossible his conclusion was. "But, I saw Bellatrix die with my own eyes, we all did. Are you sure you didn't see someone else and think it was her?"

"I didn't actually see her," Harry admitted, knowing that they would never believe him now that he admitted he had never actually _seen _her.

"Then why the hell do you think it's her? Why would you scare us by telling her she's back? She can't be." Ron said, his tone getting more agitated with each passing word. They were wasting time, and if Hermione was in danger, every second counted.

"I knew this would happen," Harry said, also getting angrier by the moment. What happened to them being there with him until the very end? What happened to them trusting him with their lives without a second though? What happened to them all being there for him no matter what, whenever he needed them? The moment he said something that sounded a tad insane, they were gone, just like that.

"Calm down, both of you." Ginny said in a tone that said she would take no argument. "Look, I realize what Harry says sounds illegitimate, but he's the one who had the dream, so we need to trust him. Let him explain."

"He just said he never saw her!" Ron answered heatedly. "I have all the evidence I need."

"Well there must have been some reason he thought it was her, he didn't just pick a Death Eater and say it was them. Right Harry?" Ginny said, once again being the peacemaker between the two.

"Alright then, why do you think it's Bellatrix?" Ron asked, looking sideways at Harry, his eyes showing that he thought this whole conversation was a waste of time and that they should just take action.

"It was the way she acted. There was this sort of eerie feel in the room. This feeling that only she could bring. Her voice was just as I remembered it, with that taunting edge to it, and every time she spoke I had flashbacks to her torturing us. The part that really gave it away was her arrogance, which only a Slytherin from a family full of Slytherins can have, and she also used her favorite curse for five whole minutes on Malfoy. Even though I hate him, that is not something I would have wished anyone to endure."

"She used the Cruciatus curse for five whole minutes?" Ginny exclaimed, her eyes brimming with tears. "Merlin, if she does that to her own nephew, imagine what she would do to Hermione, the muggleborn who helped defeat Voldemort."

They all sat in silence, contemplating what Ginny had just said, as the truth in her statement dawned on all of them.

A few stray tears streaked down Ginny's face as she pictured Hermione screaming and writhing on the ground as Bellatrix mercilessly used the curse on her, while Draco was already dead on the ground beside her.

Harry, who was still in Ginny's tight embrace, softly wrapped one of his own hands around her waist, and began rubbing his hands on her back in a soothing motion, in an attempt to cease his tears, and calm himself down in the process.

Ron's face looked as though he could murder someone and he kept silently cursing the world, Merlin, and anything else that cam across his mind, under his breath. His hands restlessly balled into fists in front of him, and the look in his eyes was so threatening, that Harry shuddered just by looking at him.

On the other hand, George still seemed to be in his own world, his eyes glistened with unshed tears, but other than that, he seemed to not know what a grave turn their conversation had taken.

"That does sound like her," Ron said, his voice cracking at the end of his sentence, as his fear gripped his facial features and body. "I just don't understand how it is possible that she is back. I – we – saw her die with our own eyes, she's supposed to be gone."

"Voldemort was _supposed_ to be gone when Harry destroyed him as a baby, but he wasn't. There are some dark forms of magic that we have never heard of; maybe she used one of those." George said, pulling his eyes away from the rising sun in the window. "What I don't understand is why she is hurting Malfoy. I mean I realize that he betrayed all of the Death Eaters, but why would she just torture him? Why wouldn't she use him to get to you, or to Ron and Hermione? I am starting to think that this whole thing is a trap. I feel like we are missing something. Bellatrix may be mad, but she isn't an idiot. I think there is some grand plan that we are missing, and unless we figure it out, we are all going to die, not just Hermione and Malfoy."

"If it were a trap, why would Malfoy let her use the Cruciatus curse for five minutes without stopping?" Harry challenged, though he to agreed that something was off with the part of the plan they knew. They were missing something, and unless they found out what it was, Harry was sure something would go wrong.

"I'm not sure, I just – I think that Malfoy was against this trap she had planned, but that Bellatrix wanted to use him to lure you or Hermione in. I mean you are an Auror, and Mione works as a Magical Law Enforcement Officer, what better way is there to lure you two in? I think that Malfoy was against it however, because from how you've been describing the dreams, he doesn't seem to be in paradise." George said, his gaze once again shifting out the window. "I guess what I'm trying to say, is that if we do set Hermione and Malfoy free, we need to trust Malfoy, this isn't his fault."

"WHAT?" Ron shouted outraged. "Trust Malfoy! Are you out of your mind? He's a bloody Death Eater; I don't care how much he betrayed him. Trust him my arse! Why the hell would you even expect us to trust him, or want us to in the first place? Do you think he's good?" Ron continued to banter on, bellowing in rage at the thought of trusting a Malfoy, especially if that Malfoy was Draco.

"I just think he's had a change of heart, that's all." George said quietly, his gaze never leaving the window, as more tears seemed to glisten in his eyes.

"Why the bloody hell would you think that?" Ron snarled back, not even caring if his harsh words were hurting his distressed brother.

George sat still for a moment, a tortuous look on his face, as if he were contemplating how much to tell them. He finally succumbed to just saying "I just have a feeling, that's all."

Harry eyed George, mystified at what he was hiding from them. He knew that George would not hide anything he thought was urgent, so he let it go. If George wanted to share his thoughts, he would, and if he wasn't ready he would when he was ready. Just like things Harry hid, George would come clean with his last secret when the time was right.

"Anyways," Harry said, trying to sway Ron away from his bewildered state. "There is something else I wanted to tell you about this dream."

"What is it?" Ginny asked, speaking for the first time since she had shed those few tears at the thought of Mione being tortured again.

"It's just that this time, it was different. I heard both Malfoy's and Mione's thoughts." Harry said slowly, not knowing how they would take this information so shortly after hearing about Bellatrix.

"Maybe he told her what he was thinking." Ron said, his tone making it evident that it was his desperate desire for those words to be true, and that he thought this was an unimportant detail in the plan to rescue Hermione.

"Maybe," Harry said, not wanting to crush his hopes, but knowing it wasn't the answer. "But I don't think so. It was more like I was seeing into his brain too. Maybe she isn't strong enough to make me see what is happening to them in my dreams herself anymore. Maybe something's happened further in the story that we haven't seen yet that's drained some of her energy and powers. Maybe she's hurt, or dying."

"Let's not think like that," Ginny said, once again on the verge of breaking down into body wracking sobs at the very thought that something was happening to their friend.

"Trust me Ginny, I don't want to think like this, but if we want to save Mione, we need to think of the worst case scenario. That way no matter what happens to her, we'll be ready, and we will be able to save her." Harry said, wanting her to see what he meant.

"He's right," Ron said, through gritted teeth. "We need to act soon."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "First I need to get some more information. So we need to see a few more dreams, and I also want to go to Hogwarts today. I want to speak with Dumbledore's portrait and see what he has to say on all of this. I'm sure he will know what to do, and will be able to place a guess as to what Bellatrix's grand plan is. He does, after all, have a knack for guessing these things."

"That's a good idea," Ginny agreed. "George has been wanting to go there too for some time to see what the new generation of pranksters is like. Why don't you go with him George?" Ginny offered, attempting to find a way to cheer up her depressed brother.

"Sounds good," George said, the closest thing to a smile that any of them had seen on his face since the end of the war, spreading slowly onto his lips. "Maybe I could give them a few ideas for pranks from when I was at school and see what they think of them."

"Great, we also need to look up anything we can on the Malfoys and their trial, and we need to think about possible ways that Bellatrix could have come back and what her grand plan might be, incase Dumbledore is at just as much of a loss as we are." Harry said, naturally taking control of the situation.

"That's settled then, you two go to Hogwarts, I will go to the Ministry and look up whatever I can on the Malfoys, and Ginny will see if she can find any possible way that Bellatrix could've come back or what her plan could be. We all meet up here in the evening and share what we learned. Alright?"

"Sounds good," Harry said, when Ginny and George both nodded in agreement. "Let's go."

…

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, how lovely to see you here." Headmaster McGonagall greeted as the two walked into the headmaster's office after Harry recited the current password to the gargoyle out front. "Are you here for your monthly pensieve visit, Mr. Potter? I am afraid that the pensieve is currently unavailable as one of the professors asked to borrow it this weak for a lesson."

"No, I am in no need to examine those memories now," Harry said somberly, remembering how two weeks ago he had once again looked through Snape's memories with his mother. He always felt light hearted and closer to his mother and his savior when he viewed the memories. He had made a habit of viewing them monthly in memory of the bravest man he had ever known, and the adoring mother he had never had a chance to. "I was just wondering if I could have a word with Professor Dumbledore." Harry added, when he saw the confusion on the Headmistress's face.

"Oh, of course. I was just leaving so feel free to speak to him. Do you need anything Mr. Weasley?" The Headmistress asked politely as she began making her way out the door, picking up a few stray belongings along the way.

"Yes, I was wondering if I could have a quick word with a few of your students. I just wanted to get to know the next generation of wizards in our world so that –"

"So that you can see what the next generation of troublemakers would like to buy from your shop." She finished his sentence, and when he looked at her confused she said. "You forget that I was your teacher for seven years Mr. Weasley. I have come to know you quite well."

"Technically you were not my teacher for seven years, as I left Hogwarts early –"

"Yes Mr. Weasley; whatever you say. Now I must get going, but feel free to visit the students. They should be in the great hall right about now, eating their lunch. I would recommend you speak to Mr. Ennui and his gang of friends; they would be the most interested in your, uh, services."

With that said, the Headmistress left the room, her robes billowing behind her as she marched down the hall toward her destination, leaving the confused George, and eager Harry behind her.

…

Harry turned around and took in the room around him for the first time in nearly two weeks. He felt as though he was eleven again, and emerging in this room for the first time. Nothing had changed, and everything was just as it should be. He just wished the world had endured the same peaceful fate.

The circular room had a multitude of windows, letting the dweller in the room, feel as though they were outside breathing in the fresh air. In the middle of the room, rested the headmaster's, or in this case, headmistress's, desk. It was currently piled with papers that McGonagall was working on, along with a few medals of appreciation she had received from her assistance after the war. She never admitted it, but Harry saw her smile contentedly at them whenever he came into the room for his pensieve visits.

The shelves that surrounded Harry on almost all the available wall space were occupied with a plethora of books and resources of important use to the headmaster. Though the books were all arranged neatly by subject, they still seemed to be messily organized to any onlooker. On the top shelves of one of the bookshelves was the Sorting Hat, which was silent at the time, no doubt developing next years opening feast song. On the other side of the same bookshelf, the sword of Godric Gryffindor was resting in its rightful place after years of being used against evil and by evil.

Near the back of the office, there was an ancient cabinet, with two antique wooden doors. Inside, Harry knew, would have rested the pensieve that contained not only the current Headmistress's memories, but also those of all the headmasters before her. This was usually why Harry visited these days, but now he had a new object of interest.

Harry turned his head to the walls that were filled with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses. Right behind the headmaster's desk, there lay the one person he wanted to speak to more than anyone in the world.

Looking down on him through his half-moon spectacles, over his crooked nose, was Dumbledore. He looked just as he did when he had been their headmaster only years ago. His eyes twinkled, and he nodded his head toward Harry, with a bright smile on his face. "I was wondering when you would drop by to see me." The portrait spoke softly, his face changing from its delighted look at seeing Harry, to a solemn look that told Harry that Dumbledore ought to know the purpose of his visit.

Harry nodded, unable to say anything in return, without his voice cracking and showing weakness. Dumbledore needed to tell him the truth; he could not soften the blow because he thought it would hurt Harry, so Harry knew that he had to show his true Gryffindor bravery now and conceal his pain and fear.

Taking notice of Harry's discomfort and obvious sadness before Harry had a chance to rid himself of it, Dumbledore turned his attention to George. "Ah, Mr. Weasley. It has been too long. I wish I could speak with you at more length, but I am afraid that if you wish to see those students in the Great Hall you must leave now. Their lunch break will soon be over, and then they must return to their classes."

"Yes, sir." George said before turning and hurriedly walking out the door, a true smile plastered on his face for the first time in years.

"Now Harry," the portrait of Dumbledore said. "What discoveries have you made about Hermione, and how are you going to save her?"

…

George strolled down the halls of the castle he had grown up in. His smile grew as he grinned fondly at each of the memories that flashed through his head, mostly consisting of Fred, as he walked down the familiar hallway. With each passing memory his hands dug deeper into his pockets, and he seemed to be more entranced in his past life, than in his current one.

So lost in thought that was he, that he did not realize that his body had taken a wrong turn down one of the staircases. He did not recognize he was adrift until he ran into the door in front of him, and all happy memories left his head in a flash as he took in his surroundings.

He looked around him, over his shoulders, and down the rest of the hallway. It was completely deserted, there weren't even portraits on the wall with annoying people inside them, that berated him for ruining the learning atmosphere in the school.

As he looked at the walls and floor, trying to find a sign or trigger to a memory of his days at Hogwarts, he failed. Nothing about this place looked even somewhat familiar. The floors had a grey, disconsolate look to them, while the walls shared the same appeal. The only thought that seemed to cross his mind related to this place, was that it seemed like the ideal dwelling for Slytherins to belong in. From this information, he assumed that he was somewhere near the dungeons, though he was not sure exactly where, nor how to get anywhere from here.

Though he didn't know much about anything at the moment, he knew that he was lost and that he didn't have the faintest idea on how to get back to where he needed to be in time to see the students that he was eagerly desiring to speak to.

Not knowing what else to do, George opened the door to the classroom in front of him, and walked in, closing the door quietly behind him.

He looked around the room, and was surprised to find it completely vacant, save for a mysterious object under an enormous drapery, hidden in the far corner of the room.

Curiosity taking over his senses, George involuntarily walked closer to the suspicious mound. With a quick tug on the covering, the material fell to the ground, and uncovered the contents beneath it.

Before him stood a tall mirror, shrouded with a thin layer of dust. He leaned in close and blew away as much of the dust as he could so that he could inspect the mysterious mirror more closely. His fingers ran over the smooth surface of the cool glass, and he felt the skin on his finger break open, and blood leak over it, as his finger came in contact with the small crack on the edge of the mirror. Not minding, he let his hands trail over the mirror some more, as curiosity overwhelmed him. Why would this mirror be so isolated from the rest of the building, and be kept in a distant, deserted classroom?

Without even realizing it, his finger became caught up in the inscription at the top edge of the glass: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_.

"What is that supposed to mean?" George muttered to himself as he looked more closely at the elegant writing above the glass.

His fingers continued to feel the mirror, searching for more clues. Finally, giving up on finding out any more information about the strange mirror, his eyes looked into the reflective glass itself.

He gasped as he caught sight of what stood in the mirror, and felt tears stream down his cheeks without warning. Soon he was on his knees, hands splayed over the glass, as more tears spilled onto his cheeks.

"You're the one that should have stayed, you know." George's soft mumble echoed across the cavernous room, deep in the dungeons of Hogwarts. He had his forehead pressed against an old and dusty mirror, his ginger hair splayed across the glass along with both of his hands, as if he was trying to sink into the mirror itself. "You were always the better choice."

The mirror did not hold the twenty-something's reflection. It seemed not to hold anything. The man with the tear-stained cheeks, however, must have seen something of importance, for he kept talking. "It's not the same without you, Freddie. There are no laughs, no pranks. Everyone's just quiet and … _m-melancholy._" He scoffed, closing his bright eyes and edging himself even closer to the dusty glass. "I wish you'd come back."

He lapsed into silence, then. If you had gone up to the mirror then, you could almost make out an identical form in the reflection, trying desperately to bring a smile to the crying man's face.

…

**That's it for this chapter! I hope you tune in for the next chapter to find out what happens next! Very soon the action will happen, and then the Dramione stuff will fall into place as well. This is the part I really want to get to! I have already written multiple parts of chapters that go later on, because I have wanted to right the romance and fighting so bad! I realize that it might be a bit boring right now, (and please tell me if you really hate it that much in a review so I will try and make it better) but it is necessary for the plot. I cried so hard while writing the end of this chapter, with George and the mirror, and I hope that it was worth it, and that you got teary to! After all, I am writing this story for you, all potterheads, and of course, myself (so I can stop missing HP so much).**

**The songs that I have now that have a meaning in common with what will come into play later in the story are:**

**What Makes You Beautiful – One Direction (for obvious reasons)**

**It Will Rain – Bruno Mars (I hate the song because it is in Twilight, which I hate more than anything, but the song is so sweet, and beautiful and has to do with a later chapter perfectly).**

**Also please review, it would mean the world to me! Some of you are only favoriting and following me, and even though I appreciate that a lot, I really want to know your opinion too (even if it is bad, so that I can make this better). It would be a great birthday present too! Thank you so much for taking your time to read this story!**

**- hplvr4ever**


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